


Acceptance is Hard

by CloudMonsta



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: BUT THERE'S A HAPPY ENDING SO IT'S WORTH IT U GUYS, Based on a True Story, Cerebral Palsy, Disability, Gen, I cried writing this, Physical Disability, Physical Therapy, Sad with a Happy Ending, hell I cried EDITING this whoops, you'll probably cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 05:37:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5079814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudMonsta/pseuds/CloudMonsta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwaizumi Hajime doesn't think of himself as disabled. Sure, his medical papers at the family doctor's office list him as having a "severe medical condition," and "brain damage," but that didn't count, not really. He's fine. Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Denial

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is what happens when "be strong like ______ character!!" BACKFIRES F A N T A S T I C A L L Y (all experiences in this fic based off of my real life experiences)

Iwaizumi Hajime doesn't think of himself as disabled. Sure, his medical papers at the family doctor's office list him as having a "severe medical condition," and "brain damage," but that didn't count, not really. He's fine. You can't look at him and tell he's any different from the next teenaged boy. Some hush-hush early childhood physical therapy, exercises, and study techniques cleared that right up. He has good hand-eye coordination, thanks to volleyball, and those study techniques combat any processing problems he might have. He hasn't even had to go to a physical therapist appointment since he was six. Back then, he didn't really understand that physical therapy was different from the PE classes in school, so it didn't sink in that he was "really" disabled as a child. He could go about his days just like anyone else, so he doesn't think much of it.

The doctors had warned him that puberty could be a difficult time in particular for him, that all of the changes his body would be undergoing might upset the equilibrium that he's somehow managed to find. But they encourage him to keep up with his volleyball team, saying it's important he stays active, and between volleyball and Oikawa constantly hanging around, that is hardly difficult to do.

Iwaizumi had thought that the change his doctors warned him about would have been something dramatic, or at least really noticeable, which is probably why he doesn't realize it when the symptoms start creeping in, slow and quiet. It's little things, at first. Stuff he could easily brush off.

His legs start aching a bit longer after a good run, but it isn't very much, just a slightly annoying pinging, and he ignores that easily enough. He figures it's just because he was pushing himself a little too hard, or because he had tried out a new route that day, something simple.

When the headaches start kicking in, oddball pains that don't seem to have any particular purpose, he brushes them off, too. "I stayed up really late last night studying," he reasons, making sure to drink more water throughout the day. "I've been eating too much junk food," he tells himself another day, even though he doesn't eat much junk food unless hanging out with the team. "It's just my body being silly today," he thinks, not letting it bother him.

When his mom asks if he's alright, noticing something seemed a bit off, he shrugs. "Puberty is just messing up my chemical levels, it's no big deal, it happens to all boys my age," he says, grabbing his bento. "Thanks for lunch!" He calls out behind himself, heading out the door to meet Oikawa to walk to class. "It doesn't hurt bad enough that I can't ignore it, so nothing can be wrong yet," he thinks, pushing the niggling sense of worry as far away as he could.

Even when he starts to lose his balance here and there, tripping on nothing on his walk home from school, he figures it's just because he was tired. He spent all day at school, then volleyball practice, and had to deal with Oikawa's antics as well! _Anyone_ would be tired after that, he thinks, shoving Oikawa a bit off the path for no reason, smiling when he earns himself a "Mean, Iwa-chan! Iwa-chan's so mean!"

He finds himself losing his balance in the shower that night, too, his legs slightly shaking. He has to steady himself against the wall when he steps out onto his bathmat, dripping water everywhere. But that's just because it had been a _really_ long day, he really _was_ tired, and showers were slippery anyways. Everybody slipped right after they got out of the shower sometimes. That's perfectly normal.

It becomes a little harder to brush off when it starts becoming a regular occurrence, and he needs to steady himself against the wall more and more often. It's a good thing his bathroom is small, so at least the walls are close by. The niggling worry in the back of his mind grows harder to push down… but no, this is perfectly normal. He's just tired. His hands are only shaking because he's pushed himself hard today.

It was when his legs give out completely for the first time that he cann't push his worry down anymore.

He's one of the last ones to get into the locker room showers for a rinse off, and tells the others to go on ahead without him, that he'll catch up. He's been taking short runs after practice, with the story that he needs more time to cool off, in order to stagger when he gets in the locker rooms compared to the rest of his team. He doesn't want to slip in front of the others – that would be too embarrassing – even if a few well-aimed death glares would stop anyone from saying anything easily enough. It's a simple fix.

He walk into the showers, towel slung over his shoulder, his hands and legs shaking a little bit, but that's just from overexertion, he's sure. He hasn't stopped moving his legs since practice ended, keeping his muscles warmed up. Some foreboding part of his mind whispers to him that something bad was going to happen when he stopped… but he has to stop moving eventually. He moves to toss his towel over the top of the stall door, and pauses in front of the faucet to turn the water on.

Apparently, his legs decide that is the _perfect_ time to stop working completely.

He collapses quickly to the floor, fumbling against the door for something to steady himself, but not catching on anything. Instead, he only succeeds in smacking his shoulder roughly against the door with a slam, and his towel falls down over his face right before the shower starts, soaking him with water.

He has never been so glad to be the last one in the locker rooms, teasing and all.

" _Shit_ ," he hisses between clenched teeth, rolling out of the way of the lukewarm spray as soon as he can. His shoulder aches, his backside stings, and he can't feel anything from his thighs down for a few seconds. He leans back, gently setting his head against the wall, and breathes heavily. This does _not_ bode well.

Eventually he manages to get up, turning off the water and half-heartedly wringing out his soaking towel. He leans against the wall and wrestles to put the same clothes he'd worn before back on, the damp towel hanging over his head, grumbling to himself as he went. "This is _ridiculous_ ," he hisses, shoving his feet into his shoes and pulling the laces tight, shoving them inside the shoe rather than tying them. "Fuckin' _useless legs_ ," he adds, punctuating it with a sharp slap to the side of his calf, making sure feeling was good and firmly back.

He grumbles angrily the whole time he walks back to his house, forgetting about the others waiting for him until his phone blows up with texts after he wakes up from a nap later that night.

"Sorry, I totally spaced. Next time, guys."

…

He wakes up the next morning, and decides that he's not going to let this change anything. He is still perfectly normal. Plenty of people live fulfilling lives while living in denial, right? No reason why he can't, too.

He can't be a burden on anyone, either. He already receives so much help from those around him – his parents, his coach, his teammates, his friends. And they are plenty busy with their own lives, too. He can't bring himself to pile anything more on top of that.

So he starts to find ways to pretend that absolutely nothing is wrong, and he does it so well, he almost fools himself, too.

He still works just as hard as the others in practice, though he starts taking his showers at home rather than in the locker rooms. Best not to risk _that_ happening again. He goes for his runs, and times them so he comes back just as the others are finishing up, laughing it away as "I just have too much energy, you know. Gotta balance out my strong arms with strong legs!"

Hanamaki laughs, grinning as he jokes suggestively, "Oh yeah, gotta balance out all that _arm_ exercise, wouldn't want one side to be stronger than the other," and Matsukawa smacks his shoulder with a snort. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at them, and the others shrug and accept it, thinking nothing of it, Iwaizumi's excuse making sense. He walks with Oikawa back to their houses, separating from him when their paths diverge, going home to shower and collapse into bed, exhausted.

Because he's too tired to study all the time, though, his grades start to slip, and when coach threatens him with benching, he takes it meekly with promises to do better. He has to be strong enough to hide it, to not be a burden, strong enough to keep it all together. He _has_ to.

He starts declining after-practice hangouts with Oikawa more often, explaining that he's got to spend that time studying and that they both know Oikawa would only _distract him constantly_. Oikawa chirps with laughter and shakes his head, calling Iwaizumi his "favorite self-improvement barbarian."

"Whatever, we'll see who's the barbarian when I get into a good university and _you don't_ because you've been staying up all night watching matches again!" Iwaizumi jokes right back, rolling his eyes at his best friend. Rather than hanging out every night of the week, it slowly declines to two or three times, and Iwaizumi forces his exhausted brain to _study_ because he has to at least _keep up_ with his classes.

But rather than getting easier, things only get more difficult. Showers are quickly becoming the bane of his existence, and his hands are starting to shake so bad he's afraid he'll drop his shampoo bottle and crack it. When he gets out of the shower now, he has to move as quickly as he can to sit on the seat of the toilet, just to try and catch his breath, to give his body a bit of a reprieve for how difficult it is to just _stand in some water for a while and clean himself._

It's when he goes to get out of the shower one day, and has to use the towel rack to steady himself on his way to the toilet to rest, that he realizes he can't do it on his own anymore.

His legs decide to collapse out from beneath him when he tries to take a step, and the towel rack groans, the wall cracking underneath the sudden heavy weight it has to bear, before Iwaizumi releases it and slides down against the wall, heavily, to sit down on the bathmat. "Can't even make it to the toilet," he groans in a monotone, helplessly pulling his towel down from the rack to drape over his head to mope. He stares angrily at the tile floor, spits out his frustration with his next word, "Useless." It doesn't make him feel any better, though, and he feels like just voicing it drains all of his energy. He sighs as he lets his head rest against the wall with a muffled thump. "Fucking useless," he whispers despondently.

After allowing himself a moment to mope at his very existence, he dries off slowly, every movement feeling like he's swimming in syrup, and taking far more energy than it should, until he finally manages to haul himself up onto the toilet, to more easily get dressed. The crack next to the towel rack, him slamming against the wall, it had all sounded so LOUD, but no one had come running, so it must have been in his head. He pulls his clothes on slowly, feeling like _everything_ he does now is slow. It's when he tiredly goes to slide his towel back onto the rack, and it rattles loosely in the wall, that he decides he needs to get some help. His doctor, his parents, _someone_. He can't live in this denial anymore. He can't keep it up on his own. He _isn't_ strong enough.

He avoids looking at the long-since-not-fogged-up mirror as he leaves the bathroom, firmly closing the door behind him.

"Useless."


	2. Bargaining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knows he's playing on borrowed time. He just doesn't know how long it will be until that time runs out.

Talking to his parents about it is hard. Really hard. Iwaizumi isn't sure what he feels when he tells his mom first – there's relief, but also worry, in her face, as he explains what's been happening her. She says that she's been worried about him for some time, but wanted to let him decide when he was ready. Iwaizumi just stares down at the floor, forcing the emotions back that threaten to overcome him. When his mom pulls him forward into a comforting hug, he figures it's ok if he cries. Just a little bit. So long as it's against his mom's shoulder.

It's not like he could stop it at this point, anyways.

His parents work together to help make things easier at home, and make sure he can get to appointments with his doctors, even the specialists. Especially the specialists. His dad installs a stronger towel rack in the bathroom, one meant for elderly people, but Iwaizumi realized long ago that "elderly" and "disabled" usually meant the same thing to most people.

He just has to get over it, like with so many other things in his life now.

Though he's told his parents, and he's working honestly with his doctors now, he begs them to let him handle telling anyone else. He isn't quite ready for anyone else to know that he… isn't strong enough. His parents agree, but only with the caveat that he has to tell his coach and teachers before the end of the month. _Especially_ his coach.

"It's important that he knows what's going on, Hajime-kun," his mother persuades, "it's for your own health and wellbeing."

And that is why today, the last school day before his end-of-the-month deadline kicks in, Iwaizumi is steeling himself to approach the coach. He stands as still as he can, waiting for a lull in the conversation before he butts in.

"Hey, Coach? Can I have a minute?"

"Sure, Iwaizumi-kun. I'm just about done here," Coach nods, picking up his clipboard and snapping the papers securely against the top of it. When he notices Iwaizumi sneaking glances at the rest of the team, he stands up. "Mind walking with me? I've got to take these to the office." He says, rapping his knuckles against his clipboard.

Iwaizumi relaxes a bit, nodding eagerly, glad that he won't have to do this within earshot of any of his teammates. They don't need to know. He's going to make it through these last few months without anyone unnecessary needing to know how _weak_ he is.

"Yeah, that'd be great."

"I see you've been studying a lot, got your grades back up, that's good," Coach makes small talk as they walk out of the gym, leading the way to the mostly empty teacher's offices. "I was worried there, for a bit."

"Ah, yeah," Iwaizumi nods, ducking his head slightly, "won't let it happen again."

"Good, good," Coach hums, gesturing for Iwaizumi to sit down in his office, and closing the door behind them. He takes his time putting his clipboard down on top of the desk and sitting down in the chair next to Iwaizumi, before speaking up. "Now, what did you want to talk about?"

"I, uh…" Iwaizumi fidgets, finding himself staring down at his feet. He'd put so much thought into working up the courage to _start_ the conversation, that he'd never thought about how he would _explain_ what was going on. "Well, recently, some things have… come up," he finally settles on, lamely. "And it shouldn't affect volleyball!" He plows on before he can stop himself, looking up at his coach, "But… it… might. But it probably shouldn't. Definitely shouldn't."

Coach settles back into his chair, letting Iwaizumi finish, watching him as he begins to hunch his shoulders and twist his hands, unconsciously curling in on himself. When Iwaizumi seems to trail off, Coach leans forward and lays a heavy hand on Iwaizumi's shoulder, speaking gently. "Is this about your condition?"

Iwaizumi jerks upright in surprise, his eyes wide. "Wha- how did you- My…?"

Coach smiles gently, and withdraws his hand now that he's made eye contact. "Iwaizumi-kun, they put those kinds of things in your school records. _Especially_ if you're participating in a sport." He says, leaning back again to give Iwaizumi his space. "I figured I'd let you bring it up yourself when you started, but you never did, and were performing fine, so…" He trails off, shrugging. "I figured that might be it, since you looked so grave when you approached. Has something changed?"

"Uh… yeah," Iwaizumi finally forces out, keeping a steady gaze on his coach. This makes things much easier… probably. "It's gotten… worse?" He says with a noncommittal wiggle of his hands.

"You don't sound so sure about that," Coach says, raising an eyebrow. "Why tell me now?" He prompts, when Iwaizumi doesn't pick the conversation back up.

"Well… I'm getting help, so it should be ok. I'm working with my doctors. They just made me promise to tell you about it. Just… in case. I guess." Iwaizumi disentangles his hands and places them firmly on his knees, bowing his head forward. "Please don't tell the rest of the team!"

"Alright."

"…alright? It's that easy?" Iwaizumi peeks up, looking at his coach, confused.

"Yeah, alright. It's that easy. But you have to make _me_ a promise, too," Coach says seriously, staring straight at Iwaizumi, who nods in response. "If it gets bad, you have to tell me. _You have to tell me if it gets bad, Iwaizumi-kun_. And I reserve the right to bench you, or take you out of practice early if I think it's what's best for you and the team. But I won't tell your teammates. It's not my place to do so."

"Of course," Iwaizumi nods again, firmly. "Thank you for your time, Coach."

As he stands up and bows deep before leaving the office, Iwaizumi can't help but think, _this might just work after all…_

…

His doctor prescribes him some special medications called "NSAIDs," whatever that meant, to be taken twice a day for the pain, and he has to start visiting his physical therapist once a month again. It's been so long since he's gone that he has to get a new one, but he's old enough to take himself now, and he manages to schedule them on Sundays so he doesn't have to miss any practices or draw attention to himself. Things seem to be getting a bit more manageable.

It's one of the nights that Oikawa is over, hanging out in Iwaizumi's room while they study for an upcoming English test, that Iwaizumi lies to him on purpose for the first time.

"Did you change the towel rack in your bathroom, Iwa-chan? I thought it used to be blue?" Oikawa has a thoughtful face on as he returns from his bathroom break, a single finger pressed to his chin.

"Yeah, it was cracking, so my dad put in a new one," Iwaizumi grunts, his voice hardly betraying his racing heart. It isn't exactly a lie, anyways… just a little white one. Lies of omission don't really count, do they? "Now get over here so I can help you before you totally flunk that test tomorrow."

"Aww, Iwa-chan's worried about me!" Oikawa singsongs, easily plopping onto the pillow next to his best friend. He leans over and places his head on Iwaizumi's shoulder, peering at the papers on their desk. "Such a caring barbarian."

"We'll see who the barbarian is when you totally beef it tomorrow, trashykawa," Iwaizumi snarks right back, shoving Oikawa's head off of his shoulder. "Now, what's the English word for 'total fucking dumbass'?"

"Rude, Iwa-chan! Rude!!" Oikawa laughs as he falls backwards onto the pillows, reaching around to poke roughly at Iwaizumi's sides, trying to tickle him.

"Oh no, you pressed the off button, I'm shutting dooooooownn," Iwaizumi drawls in response, flopping his entire weight over on top of his best friend, pinning him to the ground. "Entering sleep mode," he jokes in a robot voice, starting to fake snore.

"Ahh! Iwa-chan is crushing me!" Oikawa shrieks with laughter, trying to push his best friend off, with no visible success.

Iwaizumi stifles his laughter, and tries to hide his smirk against the floor. Little white lies of omission definitely don't count, especially if they let him keep a laughing, squirming Oikawa Tooru for a little longer.

…

Iwaizumi starts resting more after practice, the others assuming he's going to continue going on a walk as they all march into the showers, but instead he just sits down on the benches in the locker room and tries to stop his hands from shaking. In the end, he can't, so he presses them beneath his thighs to try to weigh them down instead. He's been getting exhausted earlier, but if he's careful, he can still play close enough to normal that no one but coach notices. At least, he hopes no one but coach notices.

Even when he had been running, which quickly slowed to walking, he was usually back in the locker rooms by the time the others got out of the showers, so no one thinks anything has changed, really. The first time he gets caught sitting on the bench instead of walking, he'd been taking the moment to try to rub some of the pain out of his leg, leaning forward heavily and pressing his hands hard against the muscles in his right thigh, forcing himself to breathe deep, even breaths.

"Be right back, I just forgot my towel," is Iwaizumi's only warning before Matsukawa wanders around the corner, his hair wet and only wearing a pair of quickly dampening boxers, obviously pulled on while wet.

"Ah!" Matsukawa starts, a hand jumping to his chest when he saw Iwaizumi. "You startled me there, Iwaizumi." Iwaizumi freezes up in surprise, not daring to look up. Matsukawa grabs his towel, and pauses on his way to turning around. "Cramp?" He offers, looking curiously at Iwaizumi's odd position.

Iwaizumi forces himself to breathe, relax his hands and shoulders, and look up at his teammate like nothing's wrong. "U-uh yeah, cramp," he agrees, offering a tight smile.

"You have to cool down better so that doesn't happen again," Matsukawa mockingly scolds, waggling his finger at Iwaizumi before going back to the showers. "All that extra exercise is gonna get to you!"

Iwaizumi keeps his tight smile on his face until Matsukawa rounds the corner, releasing the breath he didn't realized he was holding in one great _woosh_. That was close. Too close. He couldn't let something like that happen again. As soon as the pain recedes enough, and he feels like he could put weight on his leg again, Iwaizumi gathers up his stuff and quickly heads out.

When Oikawa emerges from the showers and asks the others where Iwaizumi was, it's Yahaba who tells him, "Oh, he left early, said something about needing to get some homework done."

Oikawa makes a face, and Matsukawa chimes in, "He had a cramp earlier – he probably just tired himself out with all that extra exercise he's been doing lately. Although it was kind of weird he didn't make a crack about my boxers…" he trails off, head tilting to the side slightly.

Hanamaki looks over at Matsukawa, raising a brow in confusion as he incredulously questions, "Your boxers…?"

Oikawa's eyebrows furrow, and he finds himself staring at the door, as if he expects Iwaizumi to suddenly show up again. "Weird," he murmurs before shrugging, moving to grab his gym bag and shove his dirty clothes into it to a background cacophony of Matsukawa yelling that his boxers had been wet, and not wet like _that_ Hanamaki, you perv, I had just gotten out of the shower!!

…

"How has your fatigue been?"

"It's-ah!- getting worse," Iwaizumi grunts, gritting his teeth as his physical therapist, Hitoshi, gently leans against Iwaizumi's leg to stretch the thigh muscles out. That's what he got for telling him about the recent spasms and cramping.

"Are you doing your stretches in the morning?" Hitoshi asks, slowly releasing Iwaizumi's leg and guiding it back down onto the mat.

"Yeah, not like they're doing a fat lot of good though," Iwaizumi grumbles, staring down at his right leg and where it lays, lightly twitching. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he focuses his energy and tries to make it stop. It starts moving a little faster instead. Iwaizumi frowns and sharply slaps his own leg, muttering a command to "quit that, now."

Hitoshi doesn't react to Iwaizumi's antics, having become beyond familiar with his patients having strange coping mechanisms. True, he mostly works with much younger children, as this was the children's services branch of the therapeutic unit, but Iwaizumi is still, after all, a child. Just not for much longer. Honestly, working with Iwaizumi is a breath of fresh air in Hitoshi's long workdays. He finishes taking down a few last notes, then sets the clipboard down and picks up a large plastic protractor. "Arm and shoulder measurements, next," he guides, shifting his small stool to the side so he was level with Iwaizumi's stretched out arms. "Are you taking your medications regularly?"

Iwaizumi only grunts as he lays back on the mat, allowing his arms to be manipulated like limp noodles, expertly avoiding the question. To be perfectly honest, he hates the medication they give him, something they kept referring to as an "NSAID," whatever the hell that means. He's supposed to take it with a full meal, at breakfast and again at dinner, and it's meant to help dull the pain. He hasn't been taking it like he should, though, especially not once he realized it's an anti-inflammatory – if he waits until lunch, which is shortly before practice, to take it, he can manage to play almost like normal again, and his hands barely shake. He usually feels really nauseated after taking it, and has to be careful to sit up properly right after downing the small pill in secret in the bathrooms, but it lets him keep up the charade of nothing having really changed, so he hasn't stopped, even if it makes concentrating in his classes in the morning really difficult. Taking notes is hard, too, if his hands are shaking too badly. Sometimes he sits on them to hide them. He thinks the uncontrollable shaking might be the worst part.

Iwaizumi is startled out of his thoughts with a particularly jarring spike of pain running up from his elbow, to his shoulder, and all the way down his back, to settle somewhere around his waist. "Augh!" he cries out, automatically rolling his body over and curling in on the offending limb. "That hurt!"

A light flick lands on his forehead, and he glares up at Hitoshi. Even though they have only been working together for a short time, they easily grew familiar. It's kind of hard not to, when someone has to help you move your own limbs. "That's why you're supposed to be paying attention, and telling me when you feel the warning signs. You've been pushing it too hard again, I'll bet," he scolds lightly, making another notation on that damned clipboard and frowning at the slight decrease in flexibility. "Any new medications the docs have you on, Iwaizumi-kun?"

"Yeah… Flexer…something? It's some kind of muscle relaxant. The spasms keep me up at night, and it's supposed to knock me out," Iwaizumi mumbles, reaching around to rub at his lower back, relaxing slightly as the pain fades out once more. It'll be back. It always is. But that doesn't make the momentary relief any less welcome.

Hitoshi nods, making a note to ask Iwaizumi's doctor for the exact name and side effects to be wary of, and leads Iwaizumi towards the treadmill. "Still got endurance and balance tests, let's get to it."

Groaning, Iwaizumi gets up and off the stretching mat, reaching down to grab his orthotics and shoes along the way. He can't do much barefoot, anymore. His arches are getting too weak on their own, and it feels like his very feet are going to burst out of the skin if he stands for too long without his braces. He sits down on a chair next to the treadmill, carefully strapping his feet into the braces, then pulling on and lacing up his shoes. If he wears them just right, you almost can't tell they're there unless you knew what to look for. With a sigh that reminds him that he still has a good hour of therapy left to go, Iwaizumi forces himself to get up once more and onto the treadmill, watching as Hitoshi quickly changes a few settings before signaling him to start.

Therapy Sundays are anything but restful.

…

Thirty minutes later finds Iwaizumi face first on the stretching mat, panting, his legs violently shaking from the exertion, a light sheen of sweat covering his muscles.

"I'm going to take your shoes off now, so we can get the secondary measurements, ok Iwaizumi-kun?" Hitoshi asks, sliding his stool over again and gently unlacing Iwaizumi's shoes when he receives a wavering grunt and weak nod from his patient. Hitoshi loosens the shoes generously before wiggling them off, placing them to the side before getting to work on unstrapping the braces and removing those as well. He finally peels off the socks, placing them inside Iwaizumi's shoes and graciously ignoring the stench, before shifting up onto the mat. Iwaizumi's legs are still shaking too badly to get proper measurements, though, so he announces, "I'm going to help massage out some of the spasms, now," so as not to startle Iwaizumi, and gently presses against the quivering muscles of his calves.

Iwaizumi only whimpers and presses his face more harshly into the mat, wanting to somehow disappear, and die, and just plain not exist, all at once. But of course his mind doesn't allow that, instead keeping a running commentary on what he was feeling, beginning with a gentle whine and gradually escalating to a loud mental shout:

 _It's useless, I'm so useless, I can't even stand to run for thirty minutes on the treadmill anymore. Coach is going to pull me out of practice, and everyone is going to know how_ weak _I am, that I can't even stretch these muscles out on my own anymore, they're refusing to move, they're just SCREAMING at me instead but I have to do this I have to do the endurance training I have to keep it up for just one more minute, gain just one more degree of movement, even though my limbs feel like rusty levers and every single crank feels like it's going to BREAK and I CAN'T DO IT it HURTS it's USELESS it's not even going to DO anything, everything's just been getting WORSE anyways, how is all of this pain and energy even HELPING—_

Iwaizumi doesn't notice when he starts saying his thoughts aloud, nor when the shaking shifts from being because of muscle spasms in his legs, to because of sobs wracking through his chest, tears rolling down his face and landing on the plastic mat, creating a small pile of snot and wet and _gross_ where he wanted to disappear into and it was all just _too much to handle_ , _he was breaking down in his physical therapist's office and it was all just so frustrating and_ wrong _and_ —

"-kun… -zumi-kun… Iwaizumi-kun, listen to me, it's alright, you're safe here, you'll be alright," it takes a while before Hitoshi's gentle words filter in past Iwaizumi's racing thoughts, a gentle hand rubbing rhythmically up and down his back, comforting him. "This is a safe place. You can let it out." Hitoshi keeps rubbing Iwaizumi's back until the sobs calm down, receding. He is used to small children acting out with high energy tantrums, but it isn't often that he deals with the pain of watching a patient who _knows_ what it is like to be able to walk, and have control of his body, only to have that all taken from him. Hitoshi's heart burns with sympathetic frustration at Iwaizumi's plight, and the fact that he can't do much more than sit and awkwardly rub his back until he calms down. He makes a mental note to put in a call in to Iwaizumi's parents, to make sure he is getting the proper support at home as well. In his position, Iwaizumi could certainly use it.

Once he gains control of himself again, the rest of the appointment goes quickly, quietly. Iwaizumi feels as if he's emptied something out of himself with the sobbing, and as soon as he gets home, he eats a granola bar and crashes into bed, exhausted. Not even wanting to _think_ about spasms waking him up throughout the night, he pops a muscle relaxer and forces himself to roll over so he won't inadvertently suffocate himself in his sleep. He doesn't even have the energy to take his shoes off. He is just. So. Tired.

…

Iwaizumi wakes up late the next day, having slept through his alarm because of the lingering effects of the medication. His mom must have come in at some point during the night and taken off his shoes and socks, because he certainly didn't. He manages to drag enough coordination out of his body to change out of his shirt and shorts from yesterday, carefully pulling a pair of pants up over his legs, shifting them around the knee braces he's recently gotten. He only wears them when he _absolutely has to_ (and physical therapy was _definitely_ one of those times), and even then he wrestles black sleeves over the top of them to make it look like they're just knee pads for practice. Oh god, _practice_. Iwaizumi rubs at his eyes harshly, feeling exhausted just thinking about it. How in the world was he going to be able to handle _practice_ today?

His mom feeds him breakfast, making sure he takes his anti-inflammatories like he's supposed to, and Iwaizumi only has the slightest sense of mind to wonder if Hitoshi called her. He's been able to keep it quiet before, and he knows taking medications differently than directed can be unhealthy, even dangerous, but he just wants to _keep playing volleyball_. He just wants to keep being _himself_.

His mom drives him up to school, and he's a bit late, but he arrives with a note to give his teacher, and he's only missed first period anyways. Oikawa tries to ask him what's wrong when he suddenly shows up in second period, but before Iwaizumi can even begin to think up a lie, the teacher has shushed them and class has started.

Iwaizumi hasn't looked at the note his mother gave him to give his teacher, but he can't say he's surprised when, right before lunch period, their teacher asks him to stay after class for a moment. To be honest, Iwaizumi is _glad_ she asks him to stay – he still isn't sure what he's going to tell Oikawa, even if he has started feeling better after an hour or two of school.

"Go on ahead, I'll catch up," Iwaizumi urges, shooing off a confused looking Oikawa to lunch. "She probably just wants to talk about university opportunities, I'll be fine," he assures, flapping his hand at his best friend until he finally gives up and goes to get his lunch.

"You wanted to see me, sensei?"

"Ah, yes, Iwaizumi-kun. I'd like to meet with you in the teachers' office after school today."

"Yes ma'am," Iwaizumi nods, bowing slightly, before going out to join Oikawa with lunch, brushing it off when he asks what it had been about.

"I told you, colleges. I'm in my third year, you know, she wants to meet after classes to discuss my options. Can you tell Coach?"

Iwaizumi only belatedly realizes that, this time, he doesn't have to sneak off to the bathroom during lunch to take pills in secret, because he'd been forced to take them with breakfast like he was supposed to. Something about that makes him feel just a little bit lighter as they head back into their classroom before the bell rang.

…

"Iwaizumi-kun, your grades have started to slip, and your parents are worried about you," Akiyama-sensei says as she shuffles papers around, pulling something from a back pocket to the top of the pile. "I'd like to work together on an IEP, an Individualized Education Plan, for you."

"What… does that mean, Akiyama-sensei?" Iwaizumi asks with a tilt his head, confused. Is this just a nice way of telling him he was stupid? He can't let his grades slip, Coach has a strict Bs-or-above-to-play rule, and even if Coach did let him slide because of his situation, he would still have to explain it to his teammates.

"It means we're going to change how you do the work in class a bit, so it matches your specific needs a little better. And I'd suggest getting a tutor to help you out at home, too," Akiyama-sensei explains, flipping through her binder to pull out some brightly colored sheets. "We don't want you falling behind any more than you do, but you're probably going to have to learn some new study techniques and ways to do the work. We'll work together to make sure everything continues to make sense to you, ok?" She asks brightly, with a smile.

It doesn't… _sound_ like she's calling him stupid. And Akiyama-sensei has always been one of his favorite teachers, she's definitely among the nicest of the bunch. The phrase "IEP" had sounded familiar, and Iwaizumi vaguely recalls having always been qualified for one, but never needing it because he'd kept up with his classmates just fine before. Nodding, a bit sheepishly, Iwaizumi reaches out to take the papers. "Alright," he agrees, glancing at the sheets and seeing things like "color coding" and "organization benefits good learning."

He notices that his homework starts having different instructions from the others, and he starts to decline all of Oikawa's offers of homework hangouts, not wanting him to realize what's been going on, that he's different now. Sometimes he stays after class when he's particularly confused on a topic, telling Oikawa that he wants to ask their teacher a question, he'll catch right up, it's no big deal, but he rarely makes it to practice those days, instead staying late to discuss the problem with Akiyama-sensei, trying to master the difficult concepts. Oikawa thinks it's strange, and worries slightly, but he doesn't want to press, and always ends up jogging on ahead to practice, leaving Iwaizumi behind in the classroom.

Iwaizumi begins spending his Saturdays with a tutor from a local university, trying his hardest to keep up, and when Oikawa whines about feeling unloved, and the rest of the team wonders about where Iwaizumi's been getting to lately, Coach tells them he's doing cram school a few times a week, and Iwaizumi reassures Oikawa that he's got to get ahead of the college testing game, because he can't just waltz in and wipe the floor with the exams like Oikawa can after a night of cramming. Iwaizumi knows he can't keep it up for much longer, that Oikawa is worried, but Oikawa isn't really pushing the boundaries yet, and mostly keeps his distance except for his usual drop ins for Sunday night dinners.

Iwaizumi shifts his PT appointments to Tuesdays and Thursdays now that he needs to go more often, and asks Coach to keep up the cram school story. He doesn't have to stay after class as often anymore, now that he has the tutor on Saturdays, and he tries to spend his Sundays with Oikawa, to make sure his best friend doesn't feel left out of his life. Iwaizumi's starting to feel like he's being left out of his own life, though, with each day crammed so full that he can hardly find the time or energy to eat and take a shower regularly.

…

When the doctor informs him that he wants to set Iwaizumi up with a wheelchair, "just for the bad days," he wants to scream and yell and throw things, but he knows he shouldn't. The process of getting fitted out for a custom wheelchair to his stature is arduous and frustrating, and he can't help but feel thoroughly embarrassed when his mother has to answer questions like "how many times do you fall" for him with "at least four times daily."

Iwaizumi refuses to use the wheelchair, no matter what he's doing, unless he's around the house. There's talk of moving his bedroom downstairs, but he adamantly refuses. It's not that bad yet, he can still handle the stairs… even if he's tired, he can lean against the walls and pull himself up by the stairwell. It's ok, he's alright. Just for a little while longer.

His parents agree, but only reluctantly, and Iwaizumi knows it won't last long. But he doesn't need it to last much longer… he graduates in less than a year. He only needs to make it through the last bit of high school. If he can just make it that far, it'll be alright.

…

When Oikawa notices the bike gloves on Iwaizumi's desk and asks about them, Iwaizumi shrugs. "Just a little extra leg workout," he lies, and they come easily now, "I've got to be speedy if I want to keep up with that chibi-chan Karasuno's got."

He invites Oikawa to join him in the mornings for his fictitious bike rides, but Oikawa laughs and shakes his head, saying he couldn't get sweaty like that in front of his fans, or in the morning before school. Suddenly serious, he perks up and points an accusing finger at Iwaizumi. "You better not be switching sports on me, Iwa-chan!!" he shouts.

"Don't worry, don't worry, Oikawa," Iwaizumi says with a weary smile, "I wouldn't dare leave you and volleyball."

Oikawa calms down after that, and doesn't realize until after he's left that he's never actually _seen_ Iwaizumi riding his bike since they were twelve.

…

The first time Oikawa sees the edge of Iwaizumi's wheelchair from inside the open closet door, Iwaizumi swears he's going to have a heart attack. "It's just my grandmother's," he explains, another lie, and not even a little white one anymore, rushing to shut the door and change the subject.

"Your grandma doesn't live with you though?" Oikawa half asks, half states, tilting his head in confusion.

"We're just watching it for her while she moves to a smaller house closer by, she's getting on in years you know," Iwaizumi continues, more half-truths spilling from his lips like they were natural, ushering Oikawa up to his room. "I have that new alien movie you wanted to see," he says as way of bribery, and Oikawa lets the topic go, heading up eagerly to Iwaizumi's room.

When Iwaizumi glances back he sees his mother watching him from the kitchen hallway, her eyes sad, and forces the tears that threaten to raise to the surface down, determined not to cry today. Too much of his time lately has been spent sad and crying. He should enjoy whatever asinine alien movie Oikawa has been raving about before he needs to go to bed.

His mother quietly sighs as she turns back to return to the kitchen, knowing that she can't tell Hajime it'd be easier if he just had a friend to support him, and that Tooru wouldn't think of him any differently, because Hajime would simply reject it. He had to move on in his own time, without someone pushing him forward before he was ready, and respecting that was one of the most painful things his mother had to do.

…

But the rest of the team is starting to notice that Iwaizumi's not as on top of it all as he normally is. He's forcing himself to get through practice, and paying the price when he goes home after; he's barely keeping up in his classes, even with all of the help he's got, and he's got an even shorter temper than usual, constantly on edge. Coach suggests he take a break, a knowing look on his face, after he snaps viciously at Yahaba for no good reason.

"Sorry, Yahaba, I really didn't mean it, you're doing fine," Iwaizumi immediately apologizes, realizing he's been a bit of an asshole lately. "Must be getting sick," he suggests, sitting down heavily on the bench, resigned to sit out the rest of practice, like usual now.

"If you're feeling sick, you should go home, Iwa-chan," Oikawa scolds lightly, looking concerned. "Especially if you're contagious."

"I'm not contagious!" Iwaizumi snaps, sighing and regretting it immediately after. Coach gives him a sharp look, about to tell him off, but Iwaizumi already knows he's overstepped his bounds today. "I'm just tired, I think I'll go home early today, is all. Have a good practice, guys," he says simply, standing up slowly and heading out towards the locker room.

Oikawa is left to stand and stare worriedly at his best friend, knowing something is definitely up now, because Iwaizumi never concedes to getting sick, always says he doesn't have time to get sick, denies he's sick even when he's got a 102 degree fever and can barely move.

"Oikawa! Get back to practice!" Coach's shout startles him, and he jumps back into practice, setting the ball easily to Hanamaki once more.

…

Iwaizumi knows he's playing on borrowed time, knows he can't keep this up through the last few months of his third year, but he can't stop trying to force it, living in denial and trying to keep up anyways.

So when Iwaizumi's foot slips when he goes to jump for a spike, and he lands on his ankle at a nasty angle, the braces digging into his feet, but also preventing anything from actually _breaking_ , part of him knows that it's over.

"Iwaizumi-kun! Come get your ankle checked out, I didn't like that landing," the coach shouts out, and Iwaizumi forces himself to stand back up, trying not to favor the shooting pains in a visible way.

"No, no, I'm fine, I'm still good to play," he argues, not sure how _not_ to live in denial anymore, making the mistake of trying to put some weight on his ankle and being rewarded with the leg almost collapsing out from beneath him.

"Iwaizumi-kun!"

"No, no Coach, it's totally good, I bet it's not even sprain-"

"That's enough, Iwaizumi!" The harsh bark is different from his earlier commands, and Iwaizumi knows he can't even pretend to fight it. "You're done for the day, hit the showers. Now!"

The rest of the team has frozen, staring in shock at what's happened, that Iwaizumi even talked back to the coach at all, let alone so disrespectfully. Iwaizumi forces himself off the court, stumbling some when he puts weight on his leg, but grits his teeth and refuses to allow the pain to show in his gait. Oikawa reaches out towards him, as if to say something, but as soon as Iwaizumi steps off the court, Coach has shouted for them to get back to practice.

Iwaizumi allows himself to limp properly once he's closed the locker door behind him, nearly falling onto the bench as he makes his way towards it, his vision blurred with hot, angry, frustrated tears. Everything is throbbing, every single joint is _screaming_ at him for relief, and he ends up slumping back against the lockers and forcing his legs to straighten out against the floor, shuddering breaths escaping him at the pain. It had already been especially hard today, and he strips off the fake knee pads, pulling viciously at the knee braces until the Velcro came free, the only part of his supportive devices that he can reach without bending his legs again, safe in the knowledge that practice is still continuing just beyond that door, without him.

He presses his shaking hands against the burning muscles in his legs, allowing the sobs to wrack his body as he starts to lose it.

He doesn't hear the gentle creak of the door opening slightly, doesn't look up and realize he's got an audience of one, Oikawa having begged for a bathroom break to be able to sneak out and check on him.

Iwaizumi's too busy rubbing at his legs, one at a time, hunched over and crying, begging with them, to notice anything else.

"Just a few more months. Please, please, just last enough to finish the interhigh," he's crying, bargaining with his legs as if they were another person rather than part of his own body. "I won't be active on the team after that anyways, I can say I'm working on getting into a good university, I'll take the drugs that I can't take as an athlete, just _keep working a little longer_ ," he loses his voice to hiccupping sobs for a moment, his entire chest heaving with each breath. "Just let me pretend to be healthy until I finish high school, just let me _graduate_ without a _cane_. Just last me until then, just until then, don't give out now."

It's as Iwaizumi reaches blindly for his bag, pulling out a prescription bottle that rattles with the shaking of his hand, and begins searching for a water bottle, that Oikawa quietly closes the door and leaves, unable to stand watching more, and needing to get back to practice besides.

Iwaizumi doesn't realize that Oikawa ran interference for him that day, after practice, chattering away at everyone and making the cleaning up process take even more time, insisting that the third years helped too, buying Iwaizumi time to pull himself together before they all barged into the locker rooms.

Coach starts making Iwaizumi take breaks near the end of practice, pulling him out of practice earlier and earlier, at the first signs of fatigue, the "breaks" slowly growing until he's basically benching Iwaizumi when there's still over half of practice left.

No one comments on it. Iwaizumi accepts it. He just finally ran out of borrowed time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This really was written to be a binge read - that's why I'm not going to torture you guys and give you the chapters with breaks between them. Nope. I'm gonna post it all in one go. Please read on I promise there's a happy ending in this for you. *gathers Iwa-chan up in hugs and smothers him in snuggles* IT'LL BE OK, MY SON, I PROMISE


	3. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving on is hard.

When Oikawa finally finds out, it's because he walked into the locker rooms first, finding Iwaizumi trying to stand up from the bench but failing, falling back down, barely catching himself with a pained grunt. Oikawa takes in the scene with speed and efficiency, darting back to the door immediately and closing it, whispering a silent prayer of thanks that the others were slow in joining him that day.

Oikawa doesn't say anything, doesn't force Iwaizumi to say anything, just helps Iwaizumi settle down against the lockers, because he doesn't seem to be able to handle the balance needed for the bench, and whispers to "pretend like you're sleeping," moments before all the others pile into the locker room, someone complaining loudly that they had smacked their nose against the door.

Iwaizumi doesn't know how to handle the situation, so he takes the easy way out, and simply follows Oikawa's instructions: he hunches forward, with his arms folded and his sweatshirt hood up, keeping his breathing even, no matter how much it wants to speed up because of the situation, and pretends to sleep.

All of the others act as normal, raucous and loud, laughing about their respective plans for the day and making fun of Kunimi's supposed "date" that night. They filter out relatively quickly, leaving Oikawa behind to joke that "somebody has to get the sleeping zombie up and make sure he gets home, after all!"

When they're finally alone, and the noise of their teammates has died down, the door slamming behind the last of them, Iwaizumi allows himself a bitter, hollow laugh. "Well, Oikawa, I know you've been curious. Here it is: Iwaizumi Hajime, in all his wretched glory. Unable to even stand without help."

He's bitter and callous, and when he lifts his head up to meet Oikawa's heartbroken gaze, his face is dry because he has no more emotions to spend on crying. His laugh is cruel, and his smile empty. "Ta-dah," he says, holding his arms out to the sides as if revealing the showstopper.

"Iwa-chan…" Oikawa breathes, but doesn't say anything else, just looks at his best friend quietly for a moment. Eventually he moves, mechanically, and reaches down, grabbing Iwaizumi's arm to throw around his shoulders, helping him walk until he can do it on his own, and starting to lead them back home.

When they make it most of the way home, where their paths split and Iwaizumi turned right while Oikawa turned left, Iwaizumi lifts his arm off from around Oikawa's shoulders. "No, no," he says when Oikawa starts to protest, "you go home, I can make it the rest of the way. I'm fine, I'm just… tired. So tired."

"All the more reason for me to make sure you get home safely!" Oikawa complains, "it's not like your house is much out of my way, Iwa-chan."

"Oikawa. C'mon. Just let me do this. Just this one thing." Iwaizumi pleaded, taking a single step away to show he has mostly regained his balance and the feeling in his legs. Oikawa worries at his lip, and Iwaizumi pulls out his trump card. "C'mon, Tooru, let me do this one thing on my own. I'll text if I die."

Oikawa stands still, teetering on the edge of the decision for a moment, before he finally nods and insists that Iwaizumi text him even if he's _not_ dead when he gets home. Iwaizumi tiredly agrees, gripping his phone tightly in his hand, and begins his slow, wavering walk down the last block to his home. When he glances back before turning the corner, he sees Oikawa standing still, watching him. Raising an arm to let him know he was still alright, Iwaizumi turns the corner and allows Oikawa to disappear from view. He is just so tired. So very tired.

…

When Iwaizumi finally wakes up the next day, it's to the sluggish urgency that it's late, he has to _get up_ , what _time_ is it- he drags his arm up to his face, checking his wristwatch and groaning when he sees the time. It's already 2 o'clock in the afternoon. He's completely missed any semblance of school. It takes his tired out brain longer than usual to realize that it's _Saturday_ and the only thing he's missed is his tutoring session.

He collapses back onto the pillows with a _fwump_ , sighing. He can hardly keep everything straight. Slowly, the recollection of what happened last night comes trickling back to him, and he winces at the memory of Oikawa's face. He almost looked as broken up as Iwaizumi has been feeling.

Before he can wallow in his thoughts for too long, however, his stomach growls loudly, and he looks down at it. "Guess I haven't eaten in nearly a day, huh…" he murmurs, trying to recall if he'd eaten anything after he got home last night. "Well, might as well get up then."

When he finally shuffles into the kitchen, it's to find Oikawa sitting at the kitchen table with his mother, quietly talking. His mom spots him first, and hops up from the table, while Oikawa looks up and greets him with a bright smile. "Morning, Iwa-chan!"

While Iwaizumi mumbles a hello and moves to sit down, his mom bustles about, chattering as she grabs something from the microwave.

"Hajime, you're up! Here, sit, I'll heat your breakfast. Tooru came to visit – he's wanted to make sure you got home yesterday, what a kind friend," she places a plate of eggs and toast in front of her son, and looks at him meaningfully as she says, "I'll let you two talk," before whisking out of the room, leaving them alone.

Iwaizumi picks at his food, poking the yolks of his eggs to make them ooze out onto the plate, waiting for Oikawa to say something. When the only sound between them is that of the fork scraping against his plate, Iwaizumi decides he has to break the silence _somehow_.

"So, how much do you know?" He finally settles on asking, not looking up at Oikawa, but keeping his gaze focused on the slowly emptying plate in front of him. He can't remember if he sent Oikawa the promised text last night that he didn't die on his way home. He frowns, unhappy with himself, not for the first time recently.

"Enough to know that you do too much, push yourself too hard, and haven't really felt well lately," Oikawa responds without waiting a single beat, checking each item off an outstretched finger and keeping Iwaizumi from stewing in his thoughts too long.

"Well, lately's an understatement…" Iwaizumi mumbles, mopping up the last of his eggs with his toast and setting his fork down. He moves to pick up his glass and medication, only to realize he's forgotten to get them, and ends up staring blankly at the cupboard that they're kept in instead.

Oikawa follows his gaze and gets up, not even asking what he's getting until he's standing in front of the open cupboard. When he returns with the bottle, he sounds out the name, brow furrowed as he hands it over to Iwaizumi. "What's… na-pro…sen?"

"Naproxen," Iwaizumi supplies, expertly opening up the bottle and shaking one out into his palm. "It's an anti-inflammatory. Keeps the swelling down."

"Iwa-cha-… Hajime… are you ok?"

Iwaizumi sighs, giving up completely on the charade, and slips the pill past his lips, quickly swallowing down about half his glass of water to make sure it goes down. He's still getting used to taking swallowed medication that was bigger than a Tylenol, but he's much better at it now than he was when this all started. "No, Tooru. No, I am not ok."

With a deep breath, Iwaizumi finally starts giving all of the answers he's held back for so long.

"It's called cerebral palsy, and it's basically a misfire between the brain and the body. Like if your brain tells your hand 'pick up the glass' and you pick it up. But then your brain says 'ok, keep holding the glass,' and your hand is like 'no, fuck that noise,' and drops it. Normally it manifests early on, or right after a traumatic experience, and stays constant, but I guess I'm special. They said it might get worse around puberty, with all the hormones and stuff, but I was fine… until a few months ago. The pain got worse, the fatigue piled up, the shaking started. I'm on medications and I have braces for my knees and ankles, but… I'm not really supposed to be overexerting myself." Iwaizumi traces the wooden grain of the table with a fingertip, gaze following his finger as he keeps talking.

"…I'm not really supposed to be playing volleyball. I've been saving all my energy, using it for nothing but practice and school – mostly practice, to be honest – but it's getting harder. Impossible. I wanted to at least finish high school strong, but…" he trails off, chewing on the side of his tongue distractedly, not allowing himself to cry, not now, and refusing to think about how he won't be able to be the strong ace that brings their team to victory against everyone else anymore. Oikawa stays quiet, respectful, waiting.

Iwaizumi finally forces himself to continue, a little catch in his voice, "it's not looking like that's going to work. I was told to stop with practice about a month ago… that's why coach finally benched me," he finally looks up at Oikawa, who's still silently watching, his eyes soft and sad. "Well?! Say something!" He bellows, making Oikawa flinch.

Oikawa takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and swallows before speaking up simply.

"What can I do to help?"

"I-… what?" Iwaizumi isn't sure what he's expecting, but it isn't this. A defensive response to being yelled at, maybe, or more tears, probably, but not… this. This calm, supportive pillar in front of him. He's always thought of himself as the supportive pillar between the two of them.

"C'mon Iwa-chan, give me some credit!" Oikawa laughs, leaning forward with a smile and smacking Iwaizumi's shoulder. It's almost like normal, except for the fact that the smack is so much lighter than normal. Iwaizumi isn't sure what normal is, anymore. "We're gonna finish high school together, strong. And we're gonna beat in anybody's face that tells us differently."

Iwaizumi feels a wry smile start to creep onto his face, and he stands up to wash his dishes, feeling much better now that he's awake, his drugs have kicked in, and the hard part of the conversation is over. "Alright, rule number one," he says over his shoulder, "I'm not breakable or fragile, and if you treat me like that I will personally find the energy to kick your ass."

Oikawa laughs, sprawling out in the kitchen chair, watching as Iwaizumi dried off his plate. "Alright, I suppose I can handle that."

"Toss me the drugs?" Iwaizumi asks, turning around and gesturing to the pill bottle still on the table.

"Oho, Iwa-chan wants me to toss to him? Are you sure that won't be too strenuous?" Oikawa teases, picking up the bottle and lobbing it to Iwaizumi's waiting hand, hoping he hasn't already crossed a line. He hadn't meant to joke so quickly about it, but Iwaizumi had seemed to go back to normal for the moment, and before he knew it the jibe had escaped…

Iwaizumi snorted as he put the bottle back in the cupboard, rolling his eyes. Maybe he does still know what normal is, after all. "These may be horse pills, but they still aren't quite as big as a volleyball, I'm sure I can manage."

Oikawa's relief at not having overstepped his bounds already only shows for a moment before his face falls flat.

"What?!" Iwaizumi asks, meeting Oikawa's stare with a challenge, frowning at his friend.

"Don't be a _baby_ Iwa-chan, those are FAR from horse pills, have you even _seen_ those capsules I had to take for my knee? They were _huge_ and they get stuck in your throat if you aren't careful and then you gag and it is. The. Worst."

Now it was Iwaizumi's turn to stare, blankly, at Oikawa. Oikawa, his best friend. Oikawa, who he's been keeping out for so long. Oikawa who _probably knew exactly what it was like to play volleyball while on medication and having problems with his body_.

Oikawa, who is probably his _best_ supporter, including his parents and doctors, even the specialists.

Why has he been keeping him out for so long, again?

"Oh my god. I am SO SORRY OIKAWA," Iwaizumi finally spits out as his mouth catches up to his brain's realizations. "I'm such an _asshole_."

Oikawa's brow furrows, and he sits up straight again. "I mean, we all know you're an ass, Iwaizumi, but that's not _news_ or anything," he says, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

"I didn't even _realize_ ," Iwaizumi breathes out, not even responding to Oikawa's jab.

"Iwa-chan, are you okay?"

Iwaizumi walks over towards Oikawa slowly, as if moving through a dense fog, and places his hands heavily on Oikawa's shoulders. "You know what it's _like_ ," he whispers.

Oikawa's confusion only slightly clears up, and he shifts uncomfortably beneath Iwaizumi's hands. "Uh… kind of? I mean," he continues, standing up, "my knee is very different from your…" He pauses, uncertain how to continue, and settles for vaguely waving in the direction of Iwaizumi's body. "…but sure?"

Iwaizumi shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, mumbling to himself, "oh my god I am so _stupid_ -"

"Iwa-chan, it's fine-" Oikawa starts, intending to interrupt his wallowing, but Iwaizumi interrupts him right back instead.

"Shut up, we're gonna go play Mario Kart. I need to kick your ass at something so I can feel better about myself," he says, pushing Oikawa towards the stairs and his room.

Oikawa is still confused, but this is _definitely_ his old Iwa-chan and he's _missed_ him, so he supposes he can let it go and roll with it. "Alright," he says, shrugging. "But the only ass that's gonna get kicked is _yours_ , I've been practicing with Takeru and he's _good_."

"You wish," Iwaizumi laughs, knocking his head affectionately into the back of Oikawa's shoulder blades as they start up the stairs. "I bet that nine year old kicks your butt. I bet you still suck super bad."

"I do not!"

…

And that's how they get through the rest of high school, together. Iwaizumi is benched completely, but still cheers on the team from the sidelines, never explicitly telling the rest of the team why he's benched but just saying it's a medical issue, nothing to worry about. The others don't press, even though they want to, because they can tell something's shifted – Iwaizumi's more like his old self, and Oikawa isn't acting weird around him anymore, so they figure it's alright, whatever it is. Someone suggest that it's because his grades had gone down below the allowed level, and someone else teases that it's "too much hanging out with Oikawa, you know," and the tension is released, just like that. Even though he's not going to play, and he, Oikawa, and the coach all know this very well, there is never any talk of taking him off the team. He's always seated right next to the coach, cheering the loudest of all.

Iwaizumi starts wearing long pants to more easily cover his braces, easier now that he's not playing, and takes his medication with food, when he's supposed to be taking them, even. Breakfast and dinner, every day. He carries around some emergency Tylenol 3 in the bottom of his bag, but he doesn't ever really use it. It's more of a comfort than anything else. On the rare occasion that he does need it, it's something he uses at home, in the morning, when the pain is so bad he needs to be dead to the world.

On those days, he sends Oikawa a text in the morning to let him know he's about to check out of life for the next 14 hours, and then takes a pill and crawls back into bed. Oikawa comes over in the evenings with both of their homework assignments, along with a note from the teacher, and helps walk Iwaizumi through whatever lessons they'd gone through in class that day.

They used to think they were just super lucky, best friends who got almost all of their classes together, in middle school. Once they'd started high school, they were even luckier, having every single class together, even though it would make more sense for them to be in different English classes, at least. It is only now that Iwaizumi belatedly realizes that his parents had probably set that up, to make sure he had a built in system with a classmate, if not with the teachers. He can't thank his parents enough.

Oikawa starts coming over more often again, and replaces the tutor that used to come on the weekends, helping Iwaizumi with homework and any of the therapy exercises that require another person. It has been weird having to do those with his parents. It's much more comfortable when it's Oikawa having to help him move his legs around to stretch. Almost like warm up for practice. Iwaizumi still refuses to let Oikawa come with him to any PT appointments, but sometimes he'll complain about the exercises and tells him stories about whatever he and Hitoshi had gotten up to that day, while Oikawa catches him up on the team gossip he's missed. Oikawa treats their time together as if nothing has really changed, even though most of their "hangouts" are spent trying to get through schoolwork or keep Iwaizumi limber enough to walk and not lose his balance too much at school. Iwaizumi appreciates it more than he can say. He secretly hopes to finish high school without needing the cane, but doesn't let him slip into the destructive denial again.

Oikawa tricks Iwaizumi into "teaching" him the exercises they get, always saying things like "ahh, Iwa-chan's so smart, I didn't understand that at all before, what would I do without my Iwa-chan-sensei," even though he knows that will only get him a solid punch in the bicep and laughing shoves. Iwaizumi knows that after each fake "teaching" session, he understands the material better, and he can't help but let Oikawa get away with pretending it's all real. And even though he knows it's all just a joke, he can't help but warm up a bit inside when Oikawa says things like that, soaking up the praise with a gruff "shut up, idiot," or a headbutt, all tinted with a bit of a humble blush.

…

It's on one of their study nights, when Oikawa is going on and on about how they're going to go to the same university, and he's been looking up options, it's going to be great Iwa-chan, we're going to make our dreams come true, moving out and becoming our own people, that Iwaizumi has to say something. The plan had always been that Oikawa and Iwaizumi were going to move out together for university, and even with all the changes, Oikawa assumed that if Iwaizumi was focusing on his studies and Oikawa was going to play pro, they'd still be together.

Iwaizumi quietly and patiently sits, letting Oikawa go through his whole excited spiel until he tires himself out, before quietly whispering the hard truth.

"I'm not going to university, Oikawa," he says, his voice muffled even more by the fact that he'd been slumped over the table where they'd been working.

"What was that, Iwa-chan?" Oikawa asked, hauling himself back up into a sitting position from where he'd collapsed in excitement when talking about achieving their dreams. "I didn't quite hear you."

"I said," Iwaizumi began, lifting his head up a bit, "I'm not going to university, Oikawa."

Oikawa's face falls immediately at the declaration, but he pulls a weak, fragile smile back out. One Iwaizumi hasn't seen for weeks. He thinks he feels his heart break, just a little, at its reappearance. "Wh-what do you mean, Iwa-chan? Of course you're going to university. University is what you've wanted and dreamed of since we were eight," he continues, his weak smile wavering as Iwaizumi doesn't shift. "No, no, I want you to get the most out of this world, I want you to want to achieve your dreams, COME ON HAJIME!" His voice wavers and gets louder the more he speaks, and he ends in a telling shout accompanied by tears. "You can't just _give up_!"

…

It takes a lot of discussion, persuasion, and whining from both Oikawa and his parents, but they manage to convince Iwaizumi not to give up university completely. He decides to stay at home, going to the local community college instead, and get used to using his chair, learning how to be independent with his new limitations. He works hard to do the basic things, like doing his own laundry or going grocery shopping, but it's challenging. The people around his community _know_ now, his teammates, his _friends_ know, they see him in the chair and their faces may be a bit tight when they first see him but they hide it in their conversations well, acting as if nothing has changed except for Iwaizumi's haircut.

It is hard the first time he runs into one of them, though. He decides to time his errand trips for when his kouhai are in school, now, and is thankful that those who graduated with him have moved on and left for school and jobs. It never really gets _easier_ , per se, but he's adjusting. He's making it work.

He uses his cane when he's at home, and they've moved his bedroom to one of the downstairs rooms. He brings his chair whenever he goes out, and is finally accepting and learning what it's like to live with a disability, and not letting that disability define him, for good or for bad. He fights through the dizzy spells to take a shower every other day, and he eats enough to take his medications on time, even when they make him feel nauseous. He figures out a rhythm, a way to balance some basic classes and daily living. And, of course, daily phone calls with Oikawa.

Oikawa moves out of his house into a dinky little apartment near his campus, not twenty minutes away from home, and visits Iwaizumi every weekend. Oikawa regales him with stories about how things are going, and cajoles Iwaizumi into telling him about community college, PT, the chair, and his life, even when Iwaizumi insists that it's nothing, his life is _boring_ compared to Tooru's. He helps Iwaizumi feel a bit more human with every visit. A bit more real. A bit more _okay_.

…

When Iwaizumi decides he's ready for the transition, both to Big Boy University and Moving Out With A Disability, they follow the plan and he moves in with Oikawa into that dinky little apartment (that Oikawa picked so very carefully because there aren't any lips at the doorway entrance, that he's been slowly renovating to have stronger bars in the bathroom for the towels, lower shelves to hang shirts on, and the like). Iwaizumi transfers with his associate's degree into the same university, and he feels ready to handle independent life. Here, he'll have the support system he needs on those really hard days (he knows by now he can far and beyond trust Tooru with his bad days), but he can also be independent, because Oikawa was far from being an excessive mother hen.

And the fact that he gets to mess around and spend time with his best friend, sometimes even wrestling him to the ground and dragging him out of bed by the sheets on his good days, because "oh my GOD Tooru, it is ELEVEN O'CLOCK ALREADY G E T U P," well… let's just say that is an added bonus.

Iwaizumi moves in a few weeks before the quarter actually starts, so he has plenty of time to adjust to the apartment, and living with Tooru, and all their dumb little idiosyncrasies.

It's when he's taking his pills one morning that he realizes Tooru is still just as terrible at jokes as always, when he's asked "So, how do you swallow your pills? Do you take them all at once? Swish them around first? Let it sit on your tongue? Are yours bitter because I remember when I was taking this one dissolving one it was soooo bitter-!" Tooru scrunches his face up tight, as if he's just tasted a lemon.

Iwaizumi snorts, shaking his head at his best friend. "Tooru, they aren't _mouthwash_ \- swish them around- what the _fuck_ are you high on right now?"

"I don't know! Yours are different from mine," Oikawa fusses, missing the opportunity to say he's high on whatever medication he's shaking out from his own prescription pill bottle, and getting a small handful of powdery dust with it. "If I don't put it on my tongue juuuuuust _so_ it gets stuck in the back of my throat and no matter how much water I swallow down the damage is _done_ , Hajime. The damage. Is. Done." He makes a scrunched up face and shudders at the memory.

Iwaizumi just laughs, slamming back his pill with a tall glass of water, and grins. "Well, I don't do any of those things but I do-" He cut himself off, holding up a finger, and let out three large burps, "get kind of belchy after I take them."

Oikawa howls with laughter, shouting about how that's not normal at all, Iwa-chan, you're _ridiculous_ , I am _calling you out_ , burping contest RIGHT NOW, and for Iwaizumi, it's just the start of yet another day of living with Oikawa.

…

A few hours later, Iwaizumi's introducing himself in his first university class. "Hey, I'm Iwaizumi Hajime," he begins with a lazy wave, "science major, junior, and I bring my own chair because these school desks fuckin' suck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it! If you liked it, feel free to click the kudos button (and even FREER to leave a comment I live for those I swear). 
> 
> As I mentioned in the fic author notes, all of this is based off of real life experiences that I dealt/deal with. Iwa's CP setting in slowly, like a sneaky assassin there to ruin his life? Yeah. SOMETIMES UR BODY JUST GOTTA DO YOU LIKE THAT AND BE SO RUDE. But now I'm happily leavin' my friends in the DUST while I wheel past them and get into class on time lol. This whole fic really was. Like. An emotional upheaval. But I think really healthy, too, to look back and record it like this? The only difference is, lol, I didn't play competitive volleyball in high school. Oh, and I was already in college when the worst of it set in, but that's bc I started college when I was still a dinky lil 16yo, and my denial was stronger than Iwa-chan's. WELP
> 
> Hope u enjoyed the binge read and feel free to come talk at me, flail in sobbing tears, blame me for breaking your heart and patching it back together with scotch tape... etc., heh, either in the comments or over on tumblr at cloudmonsta.tumblr.com :D

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired off of a particularly bad shower collapse I had recently, during which I whined and said "Iwa-chan wouldn't react like this!" But then I started thinking about it. Putting Iwa-chan in my shoes. And now I am in so much emotional pain why must I do this to my babies pls someone hug me


End file.
